The Prosecution of the Imperfect
by cornerstreetshop
Summary: Rose had only recently become her mother's spitting image - left alone in the world, how will a forced stay with someone morph that image? sequel to the Impurity of Snow White
1. Chapter 1

**Ah the longly awaited sequel (so if you haven't read The Impurity, you should probably go back and read it...although if you tend to pick up on things fast it's not too needed)!**

**It's well over-due, and I'm just going to tell you now that the next chapters will have some considerably lengthy periods of time between them - but it's not because I don't want to update.**

**And I feel cruel for even publishing this now, knowing that my updates will be sporadic, but inspiration hit and blah blah blah.**

**Plus I kept getting emails from all of you lovely people favorite-ing the Impurity,or alerting me as an author and this is a gift for being so awesome.  
**

**Saying this for the lone time - I only own the plot and Rose. **

**P.S. The time period is a little off, I suppose. It's starts off in the December of the year that Voldie was defeated, Eleanor had only just died. So that means she lived a considerable amount after the last meeting between the two (Doctors are often wrong about life expectancy, two weeks turned into two months)....Just bare with me...  
**

* * *

Severus Snape stood apathetically in a quaint apartment, why had Dumbledore brought him along? He realized that his leash was short, but acting as the wizard's shadow did not seem necessary.

There were no pictures on the walls in this living room, only a couch, coffee table and a hallway that undoubtly led to the kitchen and other rooms. There were no clues to who had lived here, but Severus was confident that Dumbledore would tell him later. He positioned himself in front of the couch, awkwardly standing with his hands behind his back. Dumbledore had disappeared down the hall ten minutes or so ago, and along with not knowing why they were there, Snape had no inkling of what he was doing for so long.

The small potted plant beside the couch had begun to rattle slightly and Severus took this as a sign that Dumbledore was coming back into the living room (although he wasn't quite sure how he was making it move). It was a surprise to see, instead of Dumbledore first, a girl.

It wasn't right to describe her as a kid, but even since Severus had turned a teenager; it was hard to view anyone younger than him in any other way. She couldn't be any less than fourteen, five years younger than him. He realized that they must've been in school at the same time, at one point, yet he didn't recall her face.

Even though she was clearly younger than him, and he saw everyone younger than him as naïve and childish, he couldn't deny her beauty. She was unnaturally tall for a fourteen year old, and her slenderness only added height to her body line. Her small face was incased by dark, chestnut hair – bangs slowly sweeping across her forehead. The expression on her face, though, and in her grey eyes was daunting. Inhumanly passive, Severus wasn't positive any more that Dumbledore was the one to cause the potted plant to move.

He was looking, not staring, at her for a period of time long enough to let Dumbledore walk into the room as well without his notice. Dumbledore's small "ahem" let Severus' eyes wander away from the girl, who wasn't phased by the stranger in her living room, to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore's own eyes were twinkling, albeit less brightly than Severus was used to.

"Severus, this is Rose Reeds. This, Rose, is Severus Snape" Dumbledore started, moving to between the odd pair in the living room. "You will be staying with him until the holiday is over."

This time Severus stared at Dumbledore. Whatever color that had been circulating in his face drained slowly, and he was very ready to hear the hearty laugh that Dumbledore usually had when he was joking.

It didn't come.

Instead, Dumbledore lightly touched Severus' arm and started leading him towards the door, calling back to the girl "We are just going to discuss how we're going to transport your things."

Once they had reached the door, a plain oak surface with a looking hole and a simple latch, Dumbledore had yet again beat Severus to speaking first.

"She just lost her mother, Severus."

With an attack that seemed more personal and below the belt than he expected, Severus didn't say anything, prompting Dumbledore to continue.

"And she's not exactly orphanage appropriate at the moment," As if to punctuate his statement, a loud clanging came from the living room only a few foot steps away.

"Then why not have her stay at the castle, like the rest of the students." Severus had finally found his voice and it was full of annoyance. He was not a babysitter, and he was not a comfort giver.

"I do not think that being around," Dumbledore paused to find the right words, his tongue slipping out of his wrinkled mouth a little. "high-spirited younglings would be the best for Rose."

They stared at each other for a few moments. Severus was not quite sure how he'd be punished for not taking up the girl into his personal space – he was not quite sure how Dumbledore could still manage to affirm his authority over someone who didn't belong to the school.

And yet, as they held a staring contest, Severus was very aware of the promise he had made. Very aware of everything he was willing to fight for, for the woman who had only recently been stuck 6 feet under; was he going to give that up just because of a seemingly lonely girl?

It was a moment of strange male pride, where even Severus wasn't convinced that he had any qualifications to welcoming this stray into his life, but in the long run that didn't factor into his decision.

Eerily, as if she had read it silent scene between the two men as her cue to make her way on stage, she entered into the line of sight.

"I don't have that many things needed to be transported." Her voice was husky, threatening to leave her body in a strange rebellion – but Severus looked at her eyes and they looked as dry as pavement during a drought. Almost to a point of blood-shot, but Rose blinked her eyes away from the latch on the door and into the face of Dumbledore, then slowly Severus.

Severus thought back to the woman who, strangely, was now pushing daisies, and wondered if there could be any more of polar of her than the stoic girl in front of him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chpt. 2 **

**So this came out surprisingly quicker than I expected...Enjoy!**

**Thank you Emoor for alerting!  
**

* * *

Severus slowly walked up his own set of stairs, very aware that he wasn't the only one. The loud clunking of the trunk trailing behind the girl was the first huge tip off, but his own sheer uncomfortable-ness that he'd never expect to feel within his own home was just as large.

Without looking, he flicked his wand over his shoulder and the clunking ceased – a small, yet clear "Thank you".

It seemed like those words were rehearsed so many times that they had lost all meaning, and didn't even sound like real words to the silent girl behind him. They were words that made Severus question if her attitude was newly discovered because of the death of her mother, or if it was practiced her entire life – Severus wanted to believe that it was practiced, he had a hard time believing she mastered his vacant emotion that took years to build up, in a matter of days.

He stepped onto the landing and turned left towards the only guest bedroom and bathroom he had; suddenly, and strangely, he was glad that he didn't have to put her on the couch.

Opening the door to a room filled with a non-committal tope color plastering the walls and the comforter on the bed, it was the most anyone could expect a bachelor so young to come up with. There was a full bed in the middle of the room, a bed side table next to it with a small brass lamp beside it and a short oak dresser in front of both on the opposite wall. A window was placed in the middle of the wall facing the door so haphazardly that Severus often cursed whoever was drunk enough on the job to design the placement so poorly. No curtains fit the window properly and he never did bother learning house spells.

Rose walked into the bedroom, her trunk landed softly between the dresser and the foot of the bed. She turned to face him and there was a moment of one-sided awkwardness, Severus found himself not wanting to be silent in her presence.

"Dinner'll be ready in thirty minutes, unless you've already eaten," He said awkwardly, standing in the door way with arms folded across his chest.

"I'm not very hungry," She stated, flicking her eyes up to his. On anyone else, they would've been a boring grey, but stuck on her face – they were almost electric. "Thank you."

With that, he nodded at her and walked backwards out of the doorway and turned towards the stairs. Wasn't babysitting supposed to be harder than this? Granted, babysitting generally didn't include teenagers, but Severus still felt odd with how little effort he had put in so far. Having another human being in his house did not leave him at complete ease, yes, but it wasn't like Rose was demanding anything out of the ordinary from him and at the moment he didn't even have to feed her. Wasn't he supposed to feed her? What if she was one those people who handle stress by restricting their diet, was he supposed to force her to eat? Is that what Dumbledore expected of him, to truly look after her as if she was completely unstable?

There were times when she seemed unstable, upon reaching the inside of his house from apparating, the front door knob shook considerably – but she didn't mention a thing and Severus tried to chalk it up to his going insane with uncertainty of the situation he was in.

The moment he started preparing his own dinner, Severus wondered if the speculation of housing another human being was more worrisome than the reality of housing one.

And he wondered how a teenage girl equated into it all.

* * *

Severus was truly surprised when he was in the middle of his breakfast to see Rose enter the kitchen.

She hadn't showed her face all night and when he himself went up to bed, he saw her door closed with the lights off.

Rose looked almost exactly like she had the first time Severus met her, unearthly passive in a forest green corduroy skirt and grey sweater.

"Good morning," Severus said strangely, a piece of slightly warm toast in his hand.

She nodded her head, still standing between the door and the table in front of her.

"Did you want breakfast?" He egged on, placing the toast on the plain white plate in front of him and slowly raising out of his chair.

"I can get it myself," She said. It didn't come out rudely, more as if she didn't want to cause him the trouble. Rose's eyes flicked from cabinet to cabinet, settling for a few seconds on the window over his sink directly behind him. "If you could tell me where the bread is…"

Turning in his chair he pointed toward a cabinet closest to the small eggshell refrigerator in the corner. She walked towards it in a calculating manor, grabbing a paper towel first then the bread from the cabinet where she pointed. Rose almost turned around to question where the toaster was, when Severus already flicked his wrist and the bread turned a golden, burnt color. She muttered another thanks before sitting down before him.

Was that seriously all teenage girls ate? Severus marveled at her for a few seconds before returning to his own breakfast, feeling like he was still in school for a second.

Severus started to plan his day in his head while the crunchy morsel invaded his mouth. It wasn't that he was wasn't busy, he just had no idea how to go about what he was supposed to do – Dumbledore wanted him to take Slughorn's potions job as soon as break was over. Odd, that a teacher was going to retire right in the middle of the year, but Dumbledore saw it as an opportunity for Severus, Severus saw it as an opportunity for Dumbledore to keep an eye on him.

How many lesson plans should he plan for? How many students would willingly participate, would actually understand the lessons he would teach? Or would he just be teaching a bunch of dunder-heads that thought little on academics and more on the hormones raging inside of them?

The only thing he was certain of was that he was going to assign more essays to do – when he was in school, Slughorn focused more on the application instead of the theory of potions and him Severus' mind that was completely foolish. No potion would be useful unless it was understood what it was used for from the get-go.

"Are you normally this loquacious?"

Severus didn't detect a hint of a smile in her face, but he was very certain she was attempting to joke.

"I could ask you the same question."

"It seems that I'm the one with the better excuse as to why I'm quiet." She still had a square of toast between her pale fingers, and her gaze wasn't completely on Severus. It was more looking out of the window beyond his shoulder; it was another dull and rainy day in England.

"It's very improbable that you have used that excuse your whole life." Rose seemed taken aback for a moment as her eyes locked onto his, like she hadn't expected anyone to figure her out – although it wasn't hard for anyone to see that she wasn't a chatterbox normally, even for Severus.

"I didn't want to come here," She started out, dropping her gaze to the toast still lingering in her fingers. Severus wasn't exactly sure if he was meant to feel offended or not, could he be offended by a 14 year old? "Dumbledore said you had recently lost someone too, that it was best to grieve together. I don't understand how though,"

She laughed lightly for a moment, completely uncharacteristic and completely surprising to Severus who was stiff at the mention of "someone".

"The person I lost is definitely not the person you lost and I very much doubt we'd be much use to each other."

They sat in silence for a few moments, it was the most he had ever heard her speak (and the most emotion he's experienced from her, for that matter) and he wasn't sure if he liked it or not. He wasn't sure of any of his own feelings at the moment.

"Do you miss her, your mother?" Severus finally settled on, in a whispered tone. He wasn't sure when she lost her mother, whether it was weeks or days ago.

Rose sat in silence for a few minutes longer, the toast no longer in her fingers – it was forgotten on the paper towel in front of her and yet her gaze stayed on her fingers as if it hadn't fallen.

"She would want me to say no," Rose lifted her eyes. "She raised me to be as independent as I possibly could – no magic was allowed, I was never read a bed time story, my lunches were never packed. I'd like to lie and say it was because she knew she was going to die anyways, and that she wanted to make sure I'd be able to survive on my own."

She paused, eyes glancing at Severus before settling on the window once more.

"She provided me necessities; she wasn't cruel... Strange as it is, it feels like my landlord has just died."

"And your father?" Severus blurted out before he could stop himself – her situation was weird, and he would know when a family was weird.

"I never met him." Rose stated, finally meeting his stare. "My mother never met her father and she hoped I'd never meet mine. She didn't know I read her diary when I was little, from when she went to Hogwarts. She didn't know I've already made a speculation of who he was."

It was curious, how curious Severus was at that moment. He lifted her eyebrow, hoping to encourage her to continue.

"I can't remember his name," She had caught his hint. "The last time I read it was when I was very young, she must have thrown it away because I could never find it again."

They sat in completely still for the next few moments, their minds on the same thing, but for different reasons.

"Do you miss her," Rose suddenly asked. "whoever you lost, I mean?"

Severus was surprised at how little his "Yes" sounded.

After that, breakfast was silent. He cleared his plate and announced he was going to his study – after that breakfast, most of the break was spent in silence. Severus never quite knew what Rose did while he was in his study, and he wasn't quite sure if he wanted to know.

He was just glad he was never a teenage girl, specially that teenage girl.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**I'm back (this should be said in a creepy voice. Do with it what you will). I know, _I know_. It's been forever - but I told you I wasn't going to update regularly!**

**Anyway, I'm not completely happy with this chapter. It's mainly a filler, but it builds the plot and blah-blah-blah (did I use "Severus" too many times? Because I feel like every other word is Severus).**

**Thank you Just for reviewing. I'm taking it as a "Wow, you're super!" because being optimistic is fun.  
**

**Thank you iXamXeverywhere for reviewing and alerting (you may or may not be the reason why I updated)! I don't plan on giving up on this story (so no forgiveness needed), but you're right - life gets in the way, unfortunately. I have a couple of breaks coming up, so it's very possible that I'll be updating more though, but don't hold me to that.  
**

* * *

The final feast was well in full swing by the time Severus Snape had stepped in the hallway leading to his office. It had only been a few months, but he already felt that if he saw any of his students' faces one more time he'd throttle someone. It was very obvious, to the not-so-obedient students (and Dumbledore, of course), that any teacher beginning in the middle of the school year had not paid any dues to get respect and therefore would not be shown any – no matter how many points were taken (in all actuality, it was only the sixth and seventh years who acted up, but in Severus' mind, all the underclassmen would soon become upperclassmen so it was only natural to lump them together).

Dumbledore assured him that next year would be better, that he'd be more prepared. Severus told him if it didn't, he was not responsible for a swelling potion "accidentally" spilling on someone.

If there was something good to come out of the past 24 weeks, it had been the return to the dungeons. They were cold and dark and no one judged him for being down there so often, as it was generally expected for his position.

What was not expected was the tall girl to be walking down the same corridor as him, head down as always, but not in self consciousness.

He had stopped walking all together, and as soon as his shoes got in her line of sight she looked up, the grey eyes illuminated. How Severus hated those eyes this deep below earth; they were the very color of the walls and a ghost put together.

"Shouldn't you be at the feast, Professor?" Rose asked as if she herself wasn't supposed to be there.

Severus simply raised an eyebrow at her, silently reverberating her question.

"I put off my packing till very late." She answered, her hands relaxed by her sides, face tilted upwards, signature-ly passive.

That was her only Slytherin aspect – her emotionless-ness. Other than that, she was a pure oddity within his old house. She wasn't conniving, as far as he could tell, and she didn't socialize like her fellow classmates, looking for connections to build a strong base in the real world. Even if he was exactly a pure-bred, he still had snakely attributes, so what she was doing within that house was a complete mystery to him.

"So you," Severus paused, he only seemed to have trouble around her to form a sentence that wasn't offensive or mean spirited. "You found a place to stay, over the holiday?"

"Yes," She answered a moment later, letting the glow from her eyes stop for a few milliseconds by blinking – Severus still cursed them. "Yes, Dumbledore managed to get a couple to adopt me. It sounds a little pitiful to me though."

They stood in an uncomfortable silence. Coldness seeped into his robes, and Severus desperately wanted to leave that hallway but he had no idea how to end the conversation. They hadn't really talked outside of class, and even then she was a quiet worker. Always turned things on time and took her work seriously – not a complaint from Severus, but it made things more weird between the two. It was hard to forget those few days back at Christmas, but he hoped with time (unfortunately she still had many a-year at Hogwarts) it'd be water under a very, very tall bridge.

"They wrote me a letter, though. A seemingly nice letter, but a piece of parchment won't tell you what a person is like anymore than a flower." Rose moved her head to the side, breaking eye contact, as if she had heard a noise. "Have a nice summer, Professor."

And just like that, Rose Reeds glided down the hallway as if saying goodbye to someone who you had lived with for a week was the easiest thing in the world.

Severus walked on.

* * *

Severus sat at the almost empty, singular dinner table in the Great Hall. Fake snow was falling from the ceiling, bewitched in cheery hues of red and green – it was (supposed to be) the most wonderful time of the year.

Chatter almost as happy as the false precipitation surrounded him, it seemed the peas were more interesting to his eye, though. A few Ravenclaws, one Hufflepuff, six Gryffindors and one of what would've been his own housemate (and was his own housemate, at some point in time) sat at the table – mixed with the older, yet equally jolly professors. Dumbledore was easily the jolliest, Severus thought he might as well be bloody Father Christmas.

He wasn't annoyed at anything tangible, no. He was never one for Yule-time traditions nor did he have a problem with staying at school, instead of spending the holiday at his own home – he just woke up wrong. Horrible dreams turned into an unexpected, Ice age appropriate cold front, which turned into every single one of the remaining students blocking his way in the corridors at some point.

It was an assumption that Christmas Eve would always be happy, and ironically Severus was happy disproving that assumption.

Severus Snape ran into the member of his old house after dinner on his terrible day, the walk down to the dungeons not as quiet as normal. He was a few steps behind her, but with the long strides he was taking, it wouldn't be very long until he was in head of her – not that they were racing. He didn't care about that, he had no inner competitive mind looking to manifest in a trivial way – it was just an observation.

It took shorter for him to catch up to Rose than he thought; she abruptly stopped in the middle of the corridor (the snoring of the few portraits who didn't mind the occasional draft sounded almost soothingly, echoing off the walls) and turned, waiting for him expectantly.

She hadn't really changed, in Severus' mind, since before last summer. She was still tall (but was she taller by an inch? Did she always reach his shoulder?), and the check bones were always almost invading the eye territory, whose own grey bits of lightning were still eerie to him.

Yet she looked more content than last year, more at ease than ever before, even at the first day of term.

"Good evening, Professor," She said slowly, no visible muscles twitched on her face.

"Hello," Severus replied shortly. It was cold; oh how he hated those eyes in the dungeons.

There was a small silence, both set of eyes drifted towards the sleeping portraits, wishing they were doing the exact same thing.

"What are you doing-"

"Here instead of with my adoptive parents?" Rose finished for him; her eyes snapping back towards Severus like the clasp of a watch finally closing. "They had planned a cruise for this holiday last year; no spaces were available once they knew about me. They _are _nice, if you were wondering - would've had their own kid if time hadn't got in the way, but I suppose that's my gain."

Snores, and a random word, indicated those in dream-world – and were the only noises (once again) in the corridor, as Rose's fingers fiddled within the pockets of her robe.

"This is for you,"

A small, brown package within a small, pale hand stood in Severus' eye line.

"What is it?" He asked skeptically, refusing to indulge his fidgeting fingers in reaching out to take the package.

"A 'Thank You' gift," She said, a small smile forming on her lips – an emotion. "Although, I suppose you could consider it a Christmas gift, given the time of year."

"'Thank you' for what?" Severus' brow furrowed – as far as he knew, it wasn't for teaching; she hadn't given anyone else on the teaching staff a gift.

"For housing me last year," Rose declared as if it was the only reasonable answer, before thrusting the gift in front of him once again. His long fingers finally got their wish and wrapped themselves around the surprisingly weighty package, slightly brushing against her own slender ones – before she let go.

"Happy Christmas, Professor," With one more small smile, and a turn of the heel exited the young witch from their setting, while he was stuck.

It was his curiosity, he decided, that made him stay in the freezing corridor. After a long day, receiving a gift was a surprise and Severus was certain that the one good thing could easily be a let down, and his day could still be labeled as "bad".

Thick brown paper floated to the ground like the snow did in the Great Hall, and Severus stood staring.

It was an old book filled with different ingredients and their uses for Potions that he hadn't ever heard of; and after a quick leaf-through, Severus realized he _didn't_ know everything to do with his so-called greatest subject.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chpt. 4**

**I told you (well, hinted that) this would be out relatively soon.**

**Thank you Rawenclaw for favoriting and alerting this story!**

**Not much to say about this chapter except it's not a filler, hooray? **

* * *

For the first time in his career, Severus worried about a student. He wasn't the only teacher, though, and that made him feel less weird.

Minerva was actually the first one to notice that there needed to be a worry – one day in her class, the desks started to shake. No spell would make them still, and Minerva could only assume that Peeves was behind the whole thing – until, during dinner, when Professor Binns told her Peeves was visibly in his room, reenacting a war with multiple students' hair as swords during that period.

She sat like a hawk, or more appropriately a cat, the next period, watching the students to see who acted suspicious enough to have founded this form of rebellion. 7th years, of course, but she never did understand why in the last year, students would want to cause trouble. But all of the students, except one, seemed as confused as she had been once she learned it wasn't Peeves. They would look up from the essay they were working on, at Minerva, as if she'd yell out "This is a test – the first one to make the desks stop will graduate early!"

The only one who didn't look up was one she didn't expect at all, based on previous performance. Rose Reeds sat at her desk, scribbling away, completely unaware that what seemed like a low-grade earthquake was keeping her neighbors from a task that was to be completed that day.

Of course she told Dumbledore, as did many other professors who had similar experiences within their own classroom – and Dumbledore gave each and every one of them the same unsatisfying answer: "This will be resolved over Christmas Break; it'd be less stressful that way."

But during Severus' meeting with Dumbledore, after Rose had broken two beakers and had a bit of glass stuck in her finger for ten minutes before even noticing, Dumbledore asked him if he'd be the one to talk to Rose.

"Because she trusts you the most," He had said, but Severus had no idea why. Dumbledore ushered him out of the door, not before showing him some tattered black book on a desk along with every other useless trinket he had near the door. It seemed like he could never get away from that one period of time where he played host, no one allowed him to forget it.

Dumbledore's statement only proved more true as Severus overheard his colleagues, they would talk about how Rose's work had declined (a surprising thing because they always assumed, that even with the slump most students showed in their last year, she would never be one of them) and yet in his own class, he still got the stellar work he received when he first started teaching.

Why had she trusted him, felt the need to only keep up her work in his class rather than the others? Severus accepted the fact he was meant to suffer throughout his life, but where did Rose fit into that equation?

* * *

Christmas Break rolled around, and even though the shaking had become more uncontrollable (some portraits had even started to complain), and apparently less obvious to Rose, Severus Snape was still in no hurry to talk to Rose. What exactly was he supposed to say – "No one enjoys your tremors, so please stop it"?

It wasn't until Christmas Eve, while patrolling the corridors, did he finally encounter her. Severus heard the complaints of the portraits that couldn't sleep before he saw her, staring up at one painting, oblivious to all that was around her.

He knew it was now or never, and sighed before saying "Rose,"

She tore her eyes away from the painting, but didn't turn her whole body.

"What are you still doing up?" Rose asked, a fog covering her voice while her eyes looked as dry as the day he met her.

"I should be asking you that,"

"Professor Dumbledore would say that you should be asking me another question," She turned back towards the painting – a plain one of a mother and child, the only one not moving (and the only ones actually asleep).

He moved towards her, a step only being need before Rose turned and started running.

"_This is stupid_," Severus told himself as he ran after her, knowing that he'd catch her eventually. "_This is your life now and what's expected of you_"

She did stop, a few steps away from the Transfiguration classroom, and leaned against the wall in a sitting position. She hadn't escaped the tremors, though.

"Why have they gotten worse?" Severus asked bluntly, with an intake of air to ease the beating heart not as used to physical activity as before.

"Jim Jones kissed me two hours ago," She said, sounding as if she hadn't just ran through half of the castle.

Severus stood staring at her. She was a teenage girl, was she not? Shouldn't she be squealing about the place, bragging about some boy that wouldn't matter in a few years?

Then again, Rose wasn't normal and deep down, Severus knew it was normal for her to react that way. But how was he supposed to react?

He squatted down and wished, for the first time in recent years, he had a decent fatherly figure to model himself after.

Her knees were up to her chin, her arms limply across them.

"I didn't want him to kiss me," Rose stared at a small part of his robes in the middle of his chest; Severus was feeling more and more uncomfortable by the minute.

"And," He started, wringing his fingers. "What…what happened?"

She finally met his gaze and Severus suddenly realized Jim Jones' draw to kiss her. For the first time, her eyes did not make him feel itchy internally, despite how uncomfortable he felt in the situation. Her skin still as pale, her hair still a dark brown, and yet Severus couldn't help but (cliché-ly) feel like Rose was someone different.

"I slapped him." A smile crept onto her face, almost identical to the one that crept onto his. They weren't big, but the fact that they were there was all that mattered.

She rested her head against the wall, and Severus felt as if he had a ghost hand – one that didn't care about the implications of resting itself upon her face. One that clearly noticed she didn't shy away from the touch, and felt the need to slightly rub its thumb over the expectedly smooth skin.

The hand acting on its own slowly led a revolution throughout his body and before his brain could even function, his lips had touched hers.

Somewhere in that non-functioning brain of his, Severus knew that everything in the hallway had immediately stopped quivering, which made the corridor far too quiet. But the taste of Rose had won out every other sense as the main thing he was concerned about at the moment.

Once Severus realized where exactly he was, and who exactly he was with, he stood. He stared at Rose, who was still on the floor with her eyes fluttering open to meet his, for a moment before turning on his heel and walked away.

* * *

Severus walked out of his room on Christmas morning, not-so-ready to eat breakfast (but he must at some point and there was no need to put it off), and almost, almost, jumped at the sight of someone crouched before his door on the opposite wall.

He recognized that hair, and coughed, hoping it'd be loud enough to wake her.

"Happy Christmas, Professor" It was loud enough.

He raised that signature eyebrow, unsure of what he'd say if he actually chose to speak.

Taking the hint, she stood up and slightly dusted off the robes she had worn the night before – he hoped she hadn't stayed there all night, but Severus didn't dwell on that hope for long. The night before had been a mistake, a confusing mistake that he hoped she'd never bring up again.

"I came to say goodbye," Rose, unlike any other time they'd met, stared at his eyes without glancing towards something else. "I'm not going to finish this year, not here."

"You're leaving school?" Severus finally found his words, strangely angry ones. "Even with the lack-luster work you've been handing in all year, it's easily better than anything else another student could scramble together, and you're quitting?"

Rose bit her lip.

"I'm not going to stay sane here, Professor. I've heard all the teachers talking, pitying me and the students too. Jim Jones was dared to kiss me to see if he'd shake just as bad as everything else seems to be." She finally looked away. "I will break if I stay."

No reason was given why she began to go insane, but Severus didn't press it.

"And what will you do, without a diploma, without a complete education?" It wasn't meant to sound as harsh as it did, but she was leaving. In any other circumstance, it'd make what happened the night before a lot easier to handle – but that just made everything more confusing.

"I'm going to find my father."

The image of the black book flashed in his head.

* * *

It was the first day after she had slipped away from Hogwarts when Rose first opened her packed duffle bag. Some spare clothes, three books deemed most important for survival, and toiletries littered the inside – but something she did not expect was found at the topmost of her bag.

A note was attached to the top:

_Rose,  
This might help you with your endeavor.__  
S. Snape_

Anxious, she flipped to the first page - _Mrs. Cole gave me a diary to commemorate my stay at Hogwarts, although at the time she suggested as soon as I get back, I read my entries out loud to the other children- as if my life was meant to be story-time..._


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**Confession time: I've actually had this up for a week, but I just haven't gotten around to editing it...**

**Thank you ixamxeverywhere for reviewing! And yeah, at that point in the story he was still "dead".  
**

**To clear something up (and something that should probably be kept in mind whenever reading this story (or The Imperfect)) - I tend to write things with a clear picture in my mind, but when the passage is finally written I realize I left out half of the things I meant to mention. This seems to happen a lot with this series mainly because it's not a light and fluffy story, and I'm trying to make it have a dash of mystery; therefore, I either hint at or leave out details that probably shouldn't be. Severus didn't have Rose's mother's diary, I tried to insinuate that Dumbledore had showed Severus where he kept the book earlier in the last chapter (but it was incredi-vague, so that was not a success) and that way Severus knew how to get the diary to Rose (in my mind he technically stole it from Dumbledore's office but if you want him to be a better "good" guy you can imagine that Dumbledore completely knew Severus was going to take the book and handed it to him...)**

**Now I'm a little worried the last blurb makes no sense....In essence, I still have my training wheels on when it comes to mysterious plot details and when to introduce them, so if you have any questions, just ask and I'll answer (unless I know the answer is going to come up, then I'll just say "You'll see").  
**

* * *

The thought of Rose Reeds had long evaded Severus' mind since she left that holiday. It wasn't a complete evasion, but neither was it a continuous thing like the tides – and it was some-what satisfying. It had been years since she had gone, and Severus could count how many times he thought about her only on one hand.

They were curious times, when she did flit across his mind. Usually it was whether or not she found her father, who exactly her father was – did things still shake? One of the strangest thoughts, to him at least, happened on the night that Harry Potter came to Hogwarts for the first time; were those grey eyes still as alluring and intense as he remembered?

But he could easily distract himself from those thoughts about a girl he'd never see again – he could push them down into the deep pits of his mind as if they weighed nothing at all (in reality they didn't, thoughts aren't measurable that way). It was a sign to Severus Snape that because pushing the thoughts down was so easy; she wasn't a huge impact on his life – that everything will be just fine without knowing the answers to any question he asked. He was quite confident that Rose Reeds no longer mattered to him, or was detrimental to anything involving his life.

So when he saw her again approximately two years after Voldemort's return, it was safe to say that his old notions were a little shaken. It wasn't just the fact that her faced had showed up out of the blue, nor the fact that she looked worse than Severus last saw her (at the time, he couldn't see her eyes) – it was where he first saw her.

A standard meeting, Severus sat opposite of Voldemort like he always had since he had become ever so trusted, but the moment (mid-meeting) when Severus' eyes wondered to the side of Voldemort, was when his notions flipped upside down. There she sat, head turned down so that only a fraction of her face could be seen, and yet Severus was so sure of who she was. Her hair, looking like a dull, limp shadow, didn't have the same life that it had once before, but Severus supposed that she didn't have the same life she had either.

She didn't look at him the entire meeting and he had to advert his eyes elsewhere quickly, staring at something sitting so near Voldemort, who hadn't been there once before (and wasn't being brought up within the meeting), must've been something very important – and there was no need to press territories at the moment.

When he was leaving, however, she had glanced up at him – a questionable look of recognition and something indescribable.

As Severus appeared in his own home, one of those stupid thoughts glided into his mind – her eyes were still creepily alluring.

* * *

"Are you sure it was her?" Dumbledore questioned Severus the following summer night, evading the heat in his office.

"Could you ever mistake Reeds with any other person?" Severus replied, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers – it had been a long day, retelling his encounter with a girl who had just decided to walk back on the map.

"No, no I suppose not," Dumbledore said with a slight laugh. He paced behind his desk a few more times before Severus took it upon himself to discover what the old man could be thinking.

"Why was she there?"

The abrupt stop of his pacing told Severus that Dumbledore knew, but the silence told Severus that he wasn't going to know, not tonight.

"It is not my business to tell,"

Severus pinched the bridge forcefully one more time before standing up from the chair in front of Dumbledore's desk to take his leave.

"One more thing, Severus" He stopped walking towards the fireplace. "Do keep an eye on her at the meetings."

In mid-transit on the way to his house, Severus had to bury the thought that he wouldn't be able to not keep an eye on her, no matter if they were Dumbledore's orders or not.

* * *

Three meetings had passed before Voldemort introduced Rose Reeds and her connection to him. Three meetings where she looked worse and worse. Severus wasn't quite sure how she looked worse; she wore long robes to cover up any possible visible injuries and she always kept her head down, so no sign of torture (her cheeks did look hollow, but the starvation could've been brought upon by herself) could be seen there – but every time he'd get up to leave the meeting, she'd give him one look and Severus knew she was worse.

But no one was quite ready for the epiphany that was forced upon them.

"Gentlemen," The Dark Lord had hissed, standing up with the ever present evil glint in his eyes. "And women, I know how curious you are."

He said the last part with a slight sneer, as if being curious was a sin.

"And by indulging on your curiosity, I am doing you a favor none of you deserve –save for maybe one."

A quick scan of the room, and Severus almost scoffed at the expectant faces of some the people gathered round – what had they done recently?

"This," His hand clapped against the back of Rose, causing her head to bob upwards and stare at the face of Severus. She didn't look back down, and he found her eyes daunting once more, like she blamed him for something. "This, the subject of your targeted gossip, your distraction away from valuable work that I asked you to do – this,"

A vicious smile appeared and Severus wanted to shake something. Voldemort was dragging out information (a specialty of his) and Rose was staring him down, with no visible escape.

"This is my daughter,"

Nothing breathed in that room, except Voldemort and Rose, for the next two minutes. Severus' eyes darted inconspicuously between the two, trying to find a family resemblance, an impossible task he would've thought a few minutes ago.

The Dark Lord's smile only seemed to increase – the shock put him in a much more powerful position, and he fed off of that.

"Finally reuniting with Daddy-dearest," He pinched the cheek of Rose, who had adverted her eyes to the table once more, with a force that left a red mark for more than a few seconds – but she acted as if she couldn't feel it at all. "This one apparently spent years looking for me – what a tragedy I have no use for her,"

Everyone, still trying regain their breathing, hung on to his every word. Severus was more curious than he'd ever let on to what exactly his plans for her – why wasn't she useful, and would her non-usefulness mean she'd die like all the others?

"At first, I was going to let her follow a path... less lively," A cruel cackle followed – he thought of killing his own kin (but with the power to rise after death, what would kin mean to him?). "But then I thought, what greater honor for a true and loyal follower of mine, to receive my own flesh and blood?"

Voldemort was intentionally building suspense, his eyes once again trailing along the line of his followers – most of the men, Severus knew, would be jumping out of their seat for this "honor".

When Voldemort's eyes landed on Severus and didn't seem to move, he wasn't that surprised. Modesty was lying, and he had worked hard to scramble up the ladder of success within the Death Eaters. He never did expect getting rewarded with a human, one as strange (and increasingly stranger) as Rose – but the rewarded part was never unexpected.

"Ah Severus," Voldemort said, his smile slowly fading. "Your loyalty has been tested many times, questioned by the followers in this room on more than one occasion and stretched by sheer torture.

And yet you're still here. She is yours."

Rose looked up once more at Severus. How exactly would he explain this to Dumbledore?

* * *

**P.S. The last speaking part of Voldie's - I imagine it to be drawn out a bit, like "here...She is yours" (the "she is yours" part is spoken softly like at the end of the Order of the Phoenix movie where Voldie says "You're a fool Harry Potter, and you will lose everything")**

**Annnnnnnnnnnd crazy author forcing her readers to see/hear and only see/hear what she does strikes again!  
**


End file.
